#BUT doesn't realize he has these feelings just yet. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

euthymiya · 1 day

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“we’re just friends but…” — ft. ryomen sukuna, gojo satoru, and geto suguru

aka the moment that jjk men realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re not “just friends” and maybe, just maybe, they’d like to be more. perhaps someday in the future, they’ll tell you

before you read: 3.3k total word count (roughly 1k for each) ; fem reader (all) ; fluff ; pining + realizing of feelings ; sukuna: mentions of blood, injuries, stitches, and violence ; non canon compliant + non curse au ; reader stitches him up ; gojo: canon compliant ; satoru has migrains from his six eyes ; reader is touchy (non sexually) ; banter ; geto: non canon compliant but set in canon verse ; suguru doesn't defect (he becomes a teacher) ; reader and suguru co parent nanako and mimiko (non romantically. for now lolll) ; over protective suguru ; mentions of reader being a hypothetical wife

“We’re just friends, but she’s the only one who can scold me and get away with it. No, I don’t have a soft spot for her.” — RYOMEN SUKUNA

You’re not happy. That’s the first thing he notes when he trudges past your door at such an hour. Judging by the slightly bleary way you’re blinking, you must’ve been asleep before he’d rang your doorbell.

Not that Sukuna particularly cares. If you minded, you wouldn’t let him get away with it.

No. The reason you’re mad is completely different.

“Think you can stitch this one up?” He points to the gash on his chest, peeking through a ripped shirt. You can only imagine the stares he must’ve gotten on his walk here.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” You glare, crossing your arms, “has it occurred to you that maybe you should start with an explanation?”

“Alright,” he shrugs, rolling his eyes, “I got me a little cut here. So I need you to stitch it up. Think you can stitch it up?”

That only makes you get pissier. You scowl at him, shaking your head with a scoff that should make him irate from the attitude, but he doesn’t seem to be angered by it. Slightly irritated, perhaps, but not angered.

Now that he thinks about it, Sukuna doesn’t think he’s ever been angry with you.

“That’s not what I meant, smart ass,” you spit. He grunts unhappily at the name. “How did you get that gash?”

“What’re you, cops?” He clicks his teeth, giving you an annoyed glance. “If I wanted a questioning, I’d have gone to a hospital. That’s why I came here, yeah? Quit with the questions.”

“Let’s hear it,” you don’t seem keen on dropping this. He groans, reaching to rub his temple before wincing at the way it pulls at his injury. The twitch of pain is not unnoticed by you. “Let’s hear how you’ve managed to cause trouble yet again and come here with a nasty injury—”

“Hey,” he cuts you off bitterly. “I didn’t cause nothin’. People were just gettin’ in my way, that’s all.”

Sukuna is stubborn. Much like you. They say opposites attract—to an extent, they do, but sometimes, only someone cut from the same cloth can really put up with someone as difficult as Sukuna. You don’t fall from his push. Instead, you drag him along with you from your pull.

Silently, you storm to your bathroom. He knows to follow you by now, expertly weaving through your familiar furniture and halls to walk into that cramped little bathroom of yours as you sit on the counter and angrily gather your medical supplies. He slots himself between your legs, standing with shallow breaths.

The wound looks angry. Raw. Painful. If not for the slightly labored breaths, you wouldn’t even be able to tell he’s in pain. Something about that bothers you—something about the fact that he’s so used to pain. So accustomed to it, he finds it easy to not let it show. Like living with it is second nature by now.

“I hate when you’re reckless,” you hiss, glaring angrily at the wound on his chest as if it offends you. It interrupts the ink running along his skin, slicing through his tattoo.

He raises a brow, slightly amused as he gruffly mumbles, “nothin’ I can’t handle.”

You roll your eyes. You’ll scold him worse later, you think. For now, you need to take care of the awful wound staring back at you. “I’m not done yelling at you,” you grumble.

Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind it. He hums, even, like he’s expected as much from you. He’s not sure why you get away with talking to him like that, like you have some sort of authority over him that he should consider. Some sort of power where he needs to consider your words and your anger and be better next time.

Oddly enough, he considers it. It won’t happen, but he considers it for a moment all the same. That’s a miracle enough.

Your fingers dip cotton into the antiseptic, carefully cleaning around the wound. It’s so delicate, so precise and measured, he can’t help but note you’re a little too practiced in this.

How often does he come to you like this? How often do you accept him? Too much to assign a proper number to, truthfully. He’s lost count.

“Ran into some idiots looking for trouble,” he mumbles, “wanted me to hand over my wallet, so I thought I’d teach ‘em a friendly lesson.”

“They must’ve been really warmed up to your friendliness to pull out a knife,” you say blandly.

He smirks at that, grinning at your attitude as you slowly pierce his skin with the threaded needle. He doesn’t flinch. Not even a little as you start to stitch the open cut closed.

Sukuna likes your attitude—finds it funny, even. A little cute, at times. The moments where you think you can boss him around and tell him what to do. He likes to indulge you sometimes, even. Grunt and follow your meaningless little orders if it makes you feel better.

He doesn’t bother to dwell on what the implications of that might mean. It’s none of his concern, anyway. He tolerates you, and that’s enough—he doesn’t need to indulge in anything more than that.

“Oh, c’mon. I have it good,” he laughs roughly, slightly gleeful as he thinks back on the number he’d done on the idiots who picked a fight with him of all people. “You’d think this was a paper cut if you saw the sorry state they’re in.”

“One of these days, you’ll get yourself arrested, you fucking idiot.”

“I’ve got your number memorized,” he grins, “I’ll make my one call count.”

It hits him after that he’s admitted he has your number memorized. He’s not even sure when he memorized it himself—now he feels a little pathetic.

If you think the same, don’t show it. Instead, you glower up at him.

“Who said I’d come to bail you out?”

“Wouldn’t you?” He raises a brow, “nah, you would.”

He sounds too sure of himself. Your lack of response tells him he’s right to be so confident.

You would come.

“If you keep coming to me bloody and cut, I’m not gonna keep stitching you up. This isn’t a hospital, asshole.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “that mouth of yours sure knows how to run.”

Your hands tape up the gauze over his stitched wound when you’re done—and slowly, like it aches to see it, you trace his tattoo until you get to the bandaged portion. The frown on your lips makes him speak before he thinks.

“Sorry,” he grunts roughly. You pause in slight shock. He does, too. “Just…just quit worrying, ya got that? You act like I’m some puny kid.”

“I’m not going to stop worrying,” you sigh, “I can’t.”

Your voice is so, so soft. Something that resembles the touch of your fingers. So gentle and delicate, even despite that previous rage you could barely contain. Sukuna shivers slightly at the sound of your sweet, quiet voice.

Fuck, he wants to say. You’re so fucking annoying, softening him up like that. He hates it—hates you, he thinks.

The worst part is that he realizes the latter couldn’t be further from the truth.

“We’re just friends, but she’s the only one I let touch me. That doesn’t make her special, though…does it?” — GOJO SATORU

Satoru has gotten good at using his technique. Very good.

Long gone are the days where a migraine is easily one curse too many away from happening. It’s been a good while since Satoru has had a migraine quite like this—it probably hasn’t happened since he was a teenager. He’s gotten better at toughing through it since then, but it doesn’t make it any less miserable. Work is stern when you’re the strongest. Demanding. Unkind, even. The higher-ups send him on mission after mission, side quest after side quest. He’s strong, and he can handle it—has to handle it.

But strength has always been a human form of measure. Satoru is human by default. Such little sleep and so much to do has taken a toll on even him.

That doesn’t stop him from making a pit stop at your place, though, bag in hand as he knocks on your door. It’s incessant. Purposefully obnoxious in that way he tends to be, making the door aggressively pull open as you stare at him exasperatedly.

“Satoru. If you’re going to come over, can you quit being so annoying about it?”

“That’s no way to treat someone who brought you kikufuku!” He chirps, beaming at you despite the throb in his head.

You know him well, though. Somehow, in an odd sort of way, you’re good at pinpointing the weaknesses a man like the strongest has. (He doesn’t have very many. The main one is you—he wonders if you know that).

“You look awful,” you hum, making him pout as he gasps.

“What? That’s just plain rude, you know. I’ll take my kikufuku somewhere where it’s appreciated. You don’t deserve—”

“When was the last time you went home, Satoru?” You ask gently, “your uniform looks like you haven’t ironed it in weeks, it’s so wrinkled.” You’re reaching forward to plant a hand on his elbow, and infinity comes down. It happens naturally, just as naturally as it comes up. Having it up is second nature to him—so much so that Satoru is untouchable more often than he isn’t. But your presence forces his senses to shut it right down.

Because more natural to him is the feeling of your touch.

“Making fun of my looks is a low blow,” he says dramatically, acting less wounded than he usually would. That’s your first sign—apart from the slightly tousled and greasy hair and the evidently overworn and wrinkled uniform.

“C’mon,” you sigh, shaking your head fondly. You bring him in with a delicate grip on his arm, force him onto your bed as you slowly reach over to uncover those two bright blue eyes he hides under the blindfold. “You should have gone home,” you murmur quietly, “you need the rest.”

“You really don’t want my gift, huh?” He sniffs. You grin, laughing softly as your thumb presses into the side of his head, working out the tension just where he needs you to. His eyes flutter shut. It’s like you just know—and somehow, you really do.

He’s strong, able to persist through with his personality and charm even though the throb in his head is killing him slowly. There’s a slight wince when you apply a bit more pressure before he grunts lowly and lets out an exhale.

“What am I going to do with you?” You whisper, shaking your head at him. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know it. “If you don’t take care of yourself, who will?”

“Well, you do it pretty nicely,” he hums, “you could hand-feed me some grapes, too, if you’re up for it.”

“Maybe later,” you snort, making him grin softly, “you need a nap first.”

Slowly, you push him down onto your pillow. It’d be nice if he’d gone home, maybe gotten some rest in something more comfortable. It’d be nice if he took care of himself better. But you suppose that’s why he comes here. So you can do it—so he can feel spoiled. A little more human.

“Don’t finish all the kikufuku while I’m knocked out,” he warns playfully, his voice hoarse as sleep already starts to settle its fingers into him and drag him into its clutches, “I brought it to share. Don’t think putting me to sleep will let you get away with eating it all.”

The ache in his head is persistent. He doesn’t fight it when you settle a finger on his lips and quiet him down. Instead, he slowly opens an eye to look at you, wincing again when the light through the window makes a sharp pain shoot through his skull. You note to close the curtains when you get up, eventually.

“You should rest, Toru,” you hum. You only use that name when you want something from him—more often than not, what you want typically tends to benefit him more than you.

He wonders how long you’ll both keep doing this—dancing around this circle but never breaching past the surface into the center. That delicate, fragile core hidden under rough layer after layer, where friends become something more. That spot where you don’t have to pretend like it’s a chore to be the one who cares, and he doesn’t have to act like bringing you something is the reason why he’s here.

“Why? So you can keep touching me without me realizing?” He teases one last time. One last attempt to touch that center without breaking past the surface.

Your thumbs are still working that gentle pressure into his temple, rubbing circles and working the pain out slowly, surely, soothingly. One finger dares to wander to his forehead, tracing a line before coming down the bridge of his nose. His breath stills and yours is shaky before you finally pull away.

“Rest up, or I’ll finish that kikufuku before you know it,” is the last thing you say before he slowly falls asleep.

He wishes he could tell you, sometimes: the ache in his head is so easy to bring down when you’re around, but the ache in his chest seems to come tenfold just by having you near.

“We’re just friends, but she’s practically the mother of my two adopted children. Pretty platonic if you ask me.” — GETO SUGURU

Suguru knows he was shaped and molded by a society that cared little for him. He wants Nanako and Mimiko to have better than that.

He does a good job with it, too, he likes to think. Sure, he’s had some help here and there, but at the end of the day, Nanako and Mimiko are his girls. He feels a swell of pride every time they look happy and content. Every time they’re not haunted by the ugly truths of the world that he was once plagued with. Every time they have people around them to understand them the way he never got to have.

“—Happy birthday to you,” you finish singing, laughing as Nanako reaches to swipe a dollop of frosting onto your cheek after the candles are blown out.

They’re about the age now that Suguru was when he found them, he thinks to himself. It’s been quite a long time. A long time to know someone who might as well be his co-parent by the book’s standards. He can practically see the way Satoru would pinch his nose at him right about now—just ask her out, already, Satoru would groan.

But two people helping to raise a pair of twins doesn’t automatically mean there’s romantic tension there—Satoru wouldn’t know. He isn’t a model example for relationships, anyway.

“Geto-sama,” Mimiko says softly, “would you like a slice?”

Suguru smiles, patting her head affectionately as he accepts the slice of cake from her before he murmurs a quiet thank you. It’s not until the two girls are off to open presents do you and Suguru have a moment to yourselves.

“You know,” you hum quietly, tapping your spoon on your paper plate as you finish the last of your cake, “they’re pretty big now.”

“They’re not that big,” he denies. Sometimes he likes to delude himself that if he listens closely enough, their footsteps still sound like the small pitter-patter of tiny feet.

“They’re old enough for a few tougher missions, don’t you think?”

Suguru stills at that, breath hitching as you both stare over at Nanako, who grins brightly at the new smartphone she unwraps. It still feels like just yesterday, you and Suguru were exasperatedly switching passwords again on your own phones, realizing for what felt like the hundredth time that she’d figured out what they were.

Suguru can’t let go. He can’t let them grow properly into the weapons he once was wielded into himself. The world sharpens youth into daggers, relentlessly and harshly shaving off parts of them if it means creating the perfect edge of a blade. He can’t accept his girls being tormented by the same things he once was.

It’s why he trains them himself. Becomes a teacher himself to be the role model they need—heaven knows he didn’t have that when he was in their spot.

“No,” he shakes his head, dead set on being final with his decision. Nanako and Mimiko must have put you up to this—he’s always easier to persuade when you’re there to reason with him. “They’re not ready.”

“They’ve been ready, Suguru,” you sigh softly, “I think you’ve known that for a while.”

No, he wants to repeat. They're his girls—but a small part of him remembers they’re yours, too.

Sometimes Suguru wonders what would have become of him if you hadn’t joined him on that mission that day. If your hand hadn’t settled on his shoulder and gently pulled his hand away from tapping away at his forehead. If you hadn’t knelt down and freed the two girls from the cage and whispered a quiet, let’s go.

Suguru doesn’t want to protect the weak if he doesn’t have to. Not anymore. It doesn’t feel like a burden he should be tasked with carrying anymore. He wants to protect what makes life worth the trouble.

He wants to protect his girls.

“They’re not ready,” he says stubbornly, frowning deeply. “They’re too young.”

“They’re the same age as—”

“When Satoru and I saw things they never should have to.” There’s a sense of finality in his tone. You sigh, reaching over and gently pressing a hand over his.

He stills—since when was your touch so warm, so soothing?

“You’re such a dad,” you laugh—he doesn’t know why he’s pausing at the sound. Stiff and unable to move as it washes over him and rings in his ear. “It’s not a bad thing, of course. But you don’t want to clip their wings before they can even try and take flight.”

“Where’d you read that?” He snorts, “some parenting forum?”

“One of us can accompany them,” you reason, huffing at his earlier question and ignoring it. He grins fondly at the way you seem flustered by his teasing. And then he realizes…he’s being slowly swayed by your reasoning.

Since when had he become so weak to you? Since when had the two of you shifted from two people who happen to care for the same set of kids to two people who cover for each other’s shortcomings? His stubbornness and your tendency to be too hopeful. Your leniency and his ability to be paranoid about just about everything.

Something beats in his chest when you squeeze at his hand. “Fine,” he relents, caving simply because it’s you. “I’ll…I’ll take them on something a bit more serious. I’ll be watching, though.”

“They’ll appreciate it,” you beam.

Suguru is screwed, he thinks. He’s starting to feel oddly like an overprotective father who needs to be persuaded by the wife he has a soft spot for. Why is he envisioning you as his wife? Why does he feel so hypnotized by your smile? Why is your touch on his hand enough to let go of his firm decisions?

Is that really all it takes for him? It’s been years—surely this can’t hit him out of nowhere now. (It seems as though it can, although he’s having a hard time coming to terms with it. You’ve always been just his friend who mothers his children. When that changed, he’s not so sure).

Distantly, he can imagine Satoru’s snickering. He doesn’t know what’s worse—the fact that the idiot was right or the fact that he’s completely at the mercy of your smile.

i was supposed to do choso too but got really tired and gave up. maybe some other day if my brain permits, there can be a nanami toji and choso version

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cannibalspicnic · 1 day

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I keep coming back to this moment in the season finale.

The way Armand looks at Daniel after Daniel gleefully torpedoes his 77 year marriage sticks with me. Armand is super powerful, over 500 years old, and his life has just been destroyed by a rude upstart little human. You'd expect some kind of rage to be bubbling over here, and yet the desperate look Armand gives Daniel feels more like sadness mixed with betrayal.

But betrayal doesn't make sense. UNLESS Daniel's not just an upstart little human to him. If what Armand is actually experiencing is a man he loves and who once loved him hurting him beyond measure and gloating about it. If Armand loves Daniel but gave him up for his own sake, only to have Daniel take from him the only love he has left, then the sadness and betrayal on Armand's face in this moment looking at Daniel makes perfect sense. Even if Daniel doesn't even realize the full extent of what he's done and who he's done it to.

And knowing Assad is the #1 Devil's Minion enjoyer...like whatever happens in the script, I think he's bringing DM into his performance and it's beautiful.

#iwtv spoilers #armandaniel #armand #daniel molloy #queen of the damned #assad zaman #eric bogosian #interview with the vampire #iwtv #my gif #tin hat thoughts #old man yaoi #devil's minion

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peppermintquartz · 2 days

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The second time Tommy meets Philip and Margaret is not under the best of circumstances.

Maddie is wrecked with worry, Jee is confused about why her daddy can't sleep at home and why her Uncle Buck isn't here, and Tommy himself is approximately three broken Kit-Kat bars from completely snapping.

So when the Buckley parents show up at the hospital, Tommy is not in the best of moods.

"Why are you here?" Margaret says when she sees him, instead of asking "How's my son?"

"Because I'm waiting for the outcome of the surgery," Tommy says, pretty curtly, but after fourteen hours following a full shift he is about to keel over. He's seated right now, having no further energy to pace, with his elbows on his knees, his head aching from the fluorescent lights and endless activity all around him, and his heart steeled against the worst possible outcome. "I mean, it's certainly not for the ambience."

"Maddie called and told us that Howard and Evan were in the building when it collapsed," Philip says before Margaret can react to the sarcasm. "We wanted to be here for Maddie."

"For Maddie, of course it's for her," Tommy says, and he is so beyond sick with worry that he can't force aside the irritation nor hide it with civility. "She's gone home with Jee-yun. I promised to keep her updated. If you're looking for her, I suggest doing so tomorrow morning when she's had hopefully at least an hour of sleep."

Margaret glances at the light above the operating theater doors and wrings her hands. "How long has it been? I can't bear this."

Tommy doesn't even look at his watch anymore. "Fourteen hours, thereabouts. Howie's just come out two hours ago."

A whole building. A three-storey building. Howie was on the top floor, so he was freed from the rubble first. Evan was on the ground floor. The 217 and the 124 had been on the scene, Tommy flying five casualties from the wreck directly to hospital, one of whom was his friend. All the while he had to internally battle the screaming need to claw apart the debris, with his bare hands if necessary, to get his Evan out of there.

Philip hugs Margaret. "He'll survive. He's always done so, since he was a kid. You know how it is with him. Scrapes and cuts and falls. He'll come out of this without trouble."

"I can't bear waiting here," Margaret whispers again. "You know I don't like..." She shuts her eyes and shakes her head.

"I know, I know it feels like it's Daniel inside, but it isn't."

And Tommy loses it.

Logically, he knows that Philip is merely trying to reassure his wife. Logically, he knows that they are trying; the mere fact that they are in hospital to check on Evan and Howie is a statement that they are trying.

Every other part of Tommy, however, explodes with incandescent rage.

"Daniel? Daniel?! Evan's in there, fighting for his life, and you can't even focus on that?" he spits out. "The only reason why I am even talking to you is because you made Evan. You brought him to this world. And you don't deserve him. Every day I see how much he loves, how openly and how bravely he loves, and to know that you both treated him the way you did... And now you come here, to the hospital, and you talk about being here for Maddie and, and thinking about Daniel, instead of your son who could've died today!"

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Tommy realizes that he's on his feet, his fists clenched, towering over two older persons who are shrinking away from his six foot two frame. Suddenly drained, Tommy licks his dry lips.

"Go see Howie," he says in a low voice. "You probably can't go in yet, but find out what you can to tell Maddie."

Philip clears his throat. "You'll let us know when Evan is out?"

"I'll call Maddie." Tommy sits again and stares at the wall opposite. Green. Dull, lifeless, bland hospital green. He hears the Buckleys walk away. "Philip, wait."

"Yes?"

"Sorry about the outburst. Also, you're supposed to call him Buck. Remember that."

Philip sighs again. "Of course. We'll see you later, when Ev- Buck is out of surgery."

#bucktommy #tevan #tommy kinard #evan buckley #i wanted some parent-related angst so #madney #mentions of chimney and maddie and jee #protective and bitchy tommy my beloved #yes buck would tell tommy about daniel obv why wouldn't he

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kazumist · 1 day

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EYES SET ON YOU .ᐟ

✩ — xiao realizes that his eyes were set on you the whole time. if it was since you made your entrance to the party or if it was since you met fifteen years ago, he doesn't really know.

✩ — prompt: felicity – the most chased after of the season asks you for a dance. (another entry for @xianyoon's event yayyyy)

✩ — includes: xiao x f!reader. fluff. cw: alcohol consumption (again,, it never gets old with me sawry) but there's only like two details about it, ooc!xiao pls i have no idea if i wrote him well during the second half. wc: 4164. kuni is reader's twin so you're technically the daughter of ei in this. some liyue and inazuma characters mentioned kinda. slight dual pov?? i guess ... yeah that's pretty much it. no beta i die like xiao almost did during the perilous trail quest tbh !!!

a prince should be confident, courageous, sophisticated, and dignified.

prince xiao checks out on most of those things. if anything, the townspeople in the kingdom of liyue take pride in their beloved prince. king zhongli is proud of his son as well as his older sister, princess ganyu. however, out of all the four traits stated above, there’s only one that prince xiao doesn’t count himself in: confidence. he isn’t referring to confidence when it comes to his abilities; heavens no, prince xiao knows and is proud of his capabilities (although not verbally; he had always been the reserved type of man even when he was a child) in terms of strength and wit. it’s more like the crowned prince of liyue doubts his abilities in terms of being sociable. having connections is a crucial thing for a man like him who’s currently in line for the throne after his father, as these connections could aid him when he takes king zhongli’s place one day.

marriage, of course, was an inevitable thing. it’s a requirement, a demand that needs to be fulfilled, whether one likes it or not. king zhongli pities his son that he couldn’t escape from this predicament, but the king just assures his son that he should marry someone that he loves. having a loveless marriage has more cons than pros anyway. he wants his son to be happy, this is the least he could do for him.

…as well as the ball that he held in hopes of his son meeting someone of his interest.

it has been a short while since the ball started. many of the young women around xiao’s age had decided to make their move, yet all were fruitless attempts as xiao had already turned them down. they’d put on a forced smile, walking away but as soon as the prince’s back faces them, you could see their grip getting tighter around the fan in their hand if you squinted. xiao retreats back to his father's side, sighing in exhaustion. his social energy wasn’t really made for posh events like these. he looks at the crowd below, catching a glimpse of his sister talking to her friends and entertaining other guests. (xiao had wondered at some point why he was in line for the throne rather than his older sister, who is more capable of ruling than he is, but he soon realizes that it is how the royal hierarchy works.)

his eyes shifts themselves towards the entrance. he’s not surprised that people are still arriving at this hour because, as far as xiao could recall, his father had invited a few other kingdoms to this ball as well. yet xiao could vividly feel his eyes widen as he saw a familiar face that had made it’s entrance—yours.

and all of a sudden, xiao suddenly finds himself being seven years old all over again.

— — — — — — — —

the young boy hid behind his father, his head peeking out ever so slightly as he eyed the child in front of him. it was a young girl who looked just around the same age as him. she was rather coy as well, as she clung to her mother’s hand. xiao looked at the child’s mother. he had heard of her before, of course. queen ei of inazuma—his father told him that she would be visiting today along with his daughter and son. though he doesn’t really see the son present at the moment. perhaps he didn’t join?

“my apologies for being a tad bit late, king zhongli. kunikuzushi really didn’t want to accompany us.” he heard queen ei sighed. well, that answers one of his questions, at least. king zhongli laughs at her words, “it’s quite alright. there are times when children could get rebellious against their own parents.”

“rebellious? i prefer to call it disobedient.”

his father chuckles again before reaching a hand behind him, patting the seven year old xiao on the head. “xiao, i would like you to meet (name). she’s queen ei’s daughter and is just the same age as you.” he gently says. zhongli knows that his son is not particularly fond of socializing, but he tries to get him out of his shell bit by bit. xiao steadily steps out, slowly stepping forward in front of his father. “(name), i’d like you to meet xiao. i told you that you’d be meeting him today, didn’t i?” queen ei softly says to her daughter. the child silently nods and lets go of her mother’s hands. she approached the young boy, lending out her hand for him to shake.

she stuttered in her words, clearly nervous. “i-i’m (name).” xiao reaches out and receives her hand, saying his name in return as he lets go. “well then xiao, why don’t you take (name) to the castle garden for the meantime? me and her mother are just going to have an important chat.” xiao heard his father. he nods in acknowledgement, and this time it was his turn to reach out his hand for the girl to take. (name) looks back to her mother for approval, eyes asking for permission to allow her to join xiao. “you can go; i’ll come and pick you up as soon as we’re finished.” she says, giving her daughter a little head pat.

hand in hand, xiao led her to the castle’s garden, where the gardeners planted all sorts of beautiful flowers located in liyue. xiao immediately leads the girl to where the qingxin flowers are located. but he doesn’t say anything when they get there—he doesn’t know what to say. should he state how this is actually his favorite flower? but he thinks that boys having favorite flowers isn’t allowed. should he say that this flower reminded him of her? the white flowers swayed against the light breeze in front of them.

“this… this is called a qingxin flower.” he starts. he doesn’t really know what he should say. might as well start with telling you what this flower is, right? “it’s pretty..” you say, admiring it. a fresh and minty scent wafts over your sense of smell. you’re pretty, xiao thinks. but he swallows his words instead and blushes at the thought. but it’s true, you are pretty. you had that small sparkle in your eyes that xiao finds himself captivated by.

your time continued on with you and xiao admiring other flowers such as glaze lilies and silk flowers until your mother and king zhongli entered the castle garden, a sign that their important chat is now over—and that (name) needs to head home. she bids xiao farewell with a small wave and a smile, while her other hand has a qingxin flower in her hold (xiao gave it to her as a little souvenir) and xiao finds himself doing the same. there were no actual goodbyes said, as they both silently hoped that they would cross paths once more.

— — — — — — — —

the flashback ends when he hears your name being announced. the crowd below him whispered, as your family had already caught the attention of the ton. well, no one could really blame them. xiao noticed numerous things already. your hair had grown much longer, you had grown in terms of height too, and your strides as you made your entrance had confidence in them. this time, xiao noticed how much you took after your mother in terms of aura. queen ei, who’s aging like quite the fine wine, leads you and your brother, kunikuzushi, as you continue walking inside.

it has been fifteen years since xiao last saw you; your last meeting with each other was when they visited—the day you met. of course, you weren’t the little (name) that he met when he was seven anymore. even your brother had taken in some changes, xiao notices. he had spent a fair amount of time with your brother when he went abroad to study and train at the age of eight. this is also a reason why xiao didn’t really have the chance to meet each other again. kunikuzushi had a stern look on his face, while you had a calm one.

king zhongli smiles at the sight of the royal family of inazuma making their entrance. it has been a while since he and queen ei met, as their busy lives as rulers of each of their respective kingdoms are quite demanding. “why don’t you go down and greet them on my behalf?” zhongli muses. xiao simply nods at him, making his way towards kunikuzushi first—after all, he knows him more than he knows you.

“kuni.” he greets his old friend as he approaches the two of you. their mother had her on business to take care of, he supposes, as he takes notice of her sudden absence by her children’s side. “ah, alatus. it’s a pleasure to see you again.” he says. you looked at him in confusion and said, "i’m surprised you’re friendly with other people, brother.” kunikuzushi looked at you, offended by your remark. “sister, what do you simply take me as?” he replies with a forced smile since they were in public at the moment. you ignored your brother, doing a curtsy as you greeted xiao. “it’s wonderful to see you again, prince alatus.” she says.

again? so you remember that time too. “again? since when the hell did you two meet?” kunikuzushi asked. “around fifteen years ago, when mother visited the kingdom of liyue to discuss something important with king zhongli. you were throwing a random tantrum that day and didn’t want to accompany us. also do mind your words, brother. we’re in public for goodness sake," you replied, scolding kunikuzushi.

“and you don’t really need to point out how i had a tantrum back then. i was seven!”

“we were both seven, if i may remind you.”

xiao watches the twins interact with each other. it was different from how he and his older sister would interact. but nonetheless, xiao is somewhat glad that there’s someone in kunikuzushi’s life who could match him in verbal terms. “whatever, how are you faring as of late, alatus?” his friend shifts the topic, giving you an eyeroll, to which you return with a slight jab to his side. xiao then grabs a drink from a refreshment table nearby, taking a slight sip. the taste of alcohol makes contact with his taste buds as he slightly smacks his lips after. “i’ve been...” he trails off. how has he been lately? xiao doesn’t recall. he’s been busy with all of these ball preparations and the mental preparation he needs to take when he is to be married.

“well. i’ve been quite well.” he finishes. “i’m glad to hear that. i heard you’re looking for a bride this season?” kunikuzushi then asks. “ah, yes. my father thinks it’s about time i start to settle down.”

“what’s the rush? we’re only at the age of twenty and two.”

“he isn’t pressuring me to get myself married away, kuni. but he wants me to start looking now, hence why this ball was held.” xiao sighs. kunikuzushi looks at his friend in pity; well, he isn’t any different. marriage has seemed to be a recent topic as well for queen ei and her son. “excuse me, gentlemen, as i see a friend quite close. i wish the best for you, prince alatus. and brother, watch your behavior, will you?” you then said, stepping away. “hey, what do you—” the other sibling swallowed his words back down his throat, not wanting to suddenly raise his voice.

“god, what does she take me for?”

“someone not trustworthy enough to be left alone, as it seems.”

“shut it, alatus.”

— — — — — — — —

alatus then encounters you again.

you were alone this time. and xiao had just escaped the horrific clutches of mothers showing off their daughters to him. “it’s nice to see you again.” xiao then greets you, taking the spot beside you. “mhm, same to you.” the silence wasn’t awkward—it was rather serene. both of you stood there, hiding away from the crowd. perhaps you weren’t someone who finds socializing all fun, preferring to be in your own little bubble instead. or perhaps you were also hiding yourself from the other nobles that have attempted to make a move on you.

“what brings you into a corner like this?” he decided to ask.

“oh, it’s... you know, not every noble is necessarily a pleasure to be in the company of, if you get what i mean.” you replied, choosing your words rather carefully.

in your peripheral vision, you see xiao then nod in agreement. so my second guess was right, he thinks. “honestly speaking, i promised my mother that i’d dance with at least one noble tonight. she wants me to step out of my shell, per se, since whenever i accompany her to balls like this, i usually just glue myself to her side.”

“at least you find yourself accompanying your mother either way. i don’t really escort my father a lot.”

“really? and didn’t you make your debut when you were just eighteen? that’s around four years ago already. “didn’t you make your debut at the same age? we’re simply allies in this boat, princess.” xiao then shoots back. you went blank for a moment, processing what he had called you. well, you were a princess. he wasn’t wrong about it, but why did it sound... something different when it rolled off his tongue? “touché.”

maybe it was the alcohol that he consumed taking it’s effect on him, as xiao felt rather bold now, making a smooth step to stand in front of you. he wasn’t that drunk, but maybe it’s some sort of liquid courage. “well, if you promised your mother for her to be an audience of you dancing with a noble...” he reaches out a hand towards you. the sight is familiar—and this is when you started to realize that a lot of things have changed between you and alatus over the past fifteen years. “may i have the pleasure of being your dance partner tonight?”

you take his hand. “you may.”

widening eyes and hushed gasps weren’t everything you noticed as you and xiao casually made your way to the dance floor. kunikuzushi had his eyebrow immediately raised as he watched your arm linked with xiao’s walking together, pausing himself as he was about to take a sip from his drink in hand. “well, would you look at that?” king zhongli hums in amusement from above, queen ei turning her head to see what he’s looking at.

“my, well, i certainly knew she had taken a liking to your son when they were children, but i didn’t expect it to continue into adulthood.” the queen says.

a new song had just started as xiao took the lead. they swayed—to the left, to the right, forward, and around. with one hand holding yours and the other on your waist, he twirls you around. he then catches you in his hold once more, pulling you close. close enough to hear your steady breathing, close enough to admire your face, and close enough to get himself lost in your eyes.

the close proximity aided you in observing just how much had changed with xiao over the past fifteen years. he had grown taller; that is obviously for one. he wasn’t that shy anymore, as he is now rather demure. his eyes still fascinated you with their unique shade of yellow, as his pupils were sharp—it reminded you of a cat’s. his hair had a few highlights of a lighter shade of green, in contrast to his main hair color.

you then realize that everything has changed.

the scowling of both men and women envied the two individuals dancing in the center. after all, they technically lost. the other women had lost to the princess of inazuma and the other men had lost to the prince of liyue—they wouldn’t dare to even come between them. because as much as they would hate to admit it, both of you were a perfect match. you complement each other well.

then, something xiao had been concerned about for some time happened: the part where he would have to lift her up. it may have been the proximity, the intimacy, or just the fear of letting her fall because it would be difficult for her to stay upright in such heels if his hand slipped. the lady gave a little yelp and fell back to the ground, thankfully without breaking a bone, but there was no time to consider anything more despite the slow music. xiao raised her up with an erratic act of trust.

“what a strong gentleman you are.” you whispered in his ear, commending him for the successful dance move. all eyes were on you now, as everyone was too hooked onto your performance. it was alluring—you were alluring, xiao thinks. the dance then comes to an end as you bow to each other as a sign of respect. he guided you away, and you quickly sneaked in a kiss to his cheek when no one was looking, not even xiao. his eyes widened as he felt your lips come into contact with his cheek. he then raises his hand to feel the spot your lips landed on.

xiao feels something in his chest, something rather warm.

— — — — — — — —

after all this time, xiao is still not the one for long conversations. he prefers to indulge in a comfortable silence rather than spend his time in a bustling crowd. so naturally, xiao finds his way into the castle’s garden. he can’t really withdraw from the party; the season has just begun. maybe give him a good two or three more parties and maybe xiao could find a way out to leave early. his cheeks are greeted by the cold and gentle breeze of the night as he steps foot into the garden.

fifteen years is enough time for one to mature and grow up. you and xiao are aware of the dark side that society holds. but one thing hasn’t really changed: his love for qingxin flowers. xiao learned as he grew up. it’s that boys are actually allowed to have favorite flowers. (could you really blame him for thinking otherwise? he was just seven.) making his way to where the qingxin flowers are, he stopped in his tracks as he noticed that he wasn’t apparently alone in the area.

the lightly dimmed lights that surrounded the garden are what helped xiao see that it was you who was standing there, admiring the qingxin flowers. you seemed to have sensed that someone was behind you, turning around to see who it was, and much to your relief, it was xiao. “prince alatus.” you greeted him again with a curtsy. “princess (name).” he greeted in return with a bow and walked closer to stand beside you.

“it feels nostalgic to be here again.” you said. xiao stays silent, preferring to listen. “do you remember? you bought me here when we were seven. i remember myself being very shy back then.” you continued, laughing as the memory replays in your head. xiao tries to construct a reply. “mhm, do you know what a qingxin flower symbolizes?” he then asks. “not really. what is it?”

“affection and happiness.” xiao softly smiles. it was just a small one, as he reached out his hand to touch the flower before him. you glance at him, admiring the look on his face.

and suddenly, you found yourself being seven years old again.

— — — — — — — —

she was nervous. very nervous. as far as she could recall, this was her first time meeting someone outside of their kingdom. she really, really wants to be friends with this xiao boy—she’s heard a few from her mother. so she doesn’t really want to mess up, but she doesn’t even know how to approach him!

as soon as they arrived, she first looked at the tall man in front of them. that should be… king zhongli! she thought that his description fit the one that her mother gave her when she described him. but she looks at her surroundings for xiao. she doesn’t really know what he looks like, since her mother only told her that they’re of the same age and that he’s a nice kid. but she soon notices something behind king zhongli—something dark green? she watched him as he peeked his head out from behind his father and joy washed over her. he’s here! she thought.

although her expressions don’t really show it, she was overjoyed when she realized that she wasn’t alone. perhaps it’s a common feeling amongst children whenever they encounter someone their age, there’s a familiar force that pushes them to befriend that person. she was no different from that, of course, as this is how she feels towards the boy in front of her now.

after they had been introduced, xiao was holding her hand and directing her to their garden. she took in everything she saw as they walked past, including paintings, decorations, and other things on display. they stopped in front of a small field of pretty white flowers. “this… this is a qingxin flower.” she hears the boy beside her say. a qingxin flower? that’s a bit hard to pronounce… she thinks. as she leans closer to inspect the flower further, it’s minty scent meets her sense of smell. “it’s pretty…” she lets out.

xiao picks one qingxin flower; there’s apparently four on one stem. xiao then takes a flower from those four. she silently watches him, wondering what he’s going to do with it. as xiao stepped closer, she held her breath. she feels the familiar feeling of a flower being tucked behind her ear. she reaches out one hand to touch it. “m-my dad always told me to be nice to girls. but i don’t really know how but i hope that’s okay.” xiao then says, looking away as she giggles at the sight of his ears turning red.

“thank you, xiao!”

while she was on the way home with her mother, she had a huge smile on her face as she gently caressed the qingxin flower’s petals with her fingers. “did you have fun with xiao today, honey?” her mother asks. “mhm! he gave me this flower; isn’t it pretty, mommy?” she exclaims. the little girl then tells her mother about what happened while they were in the garden. queen ei smiles to herself at the sight of her daughter being enthusiastic about her interactions with prince xiao.

— — — — — — — —

deja vu seemed to take over as you saw xiao pick a qingxin flower. even more when you watch him take another flower from the four. you were replaying the memory of the day you met inside your head but surely you’re back in reality, right?

you breath hitched when xiao stepped closer, tucking it behind your ear again.

“are you perhaps taking me on a trip to memory lane tonight?” you chuckled. xiao simply smiles in return as he steps back. maybe, he swallows the response down his throat. “i realized something tonight.” he then says. “hm? and what might that be?”

xiao was never the type who would say a lot of things. he usually kept his thoughts to himself, hiding them in the back of his mind and dismissing it right away. but for once, he finds himself rambling. “that despite the fact i’m rather modest or demure and the fact that i’m not really an individual who is up for long conversations, i find myself enjoying sharing a silence that’s covered in tranquility. i am a mundane man, (name), yet in spite of that, i can’t help but yearn for an individual like you to accompany me for the rest of my life.” surprised at him for dropping the formalities, you still listened.

“i—forget that. my apologies. i doubt there is anyone who could compare for a woman like yourself in the first place. we aren’t the same seven year olds that spent their afternoon in this exact garden anymore. a lot—if not everything—has changed between us. so let me be selfish for once: would you accept my invitation for a mundane life? you don’t have to feel obligated to give a response now.” you took another qingxin flower from its stem; only two remain now. it was your turn to step closer.

“i won’t give my answer now, xiao.” you start, dropping the formalities with him as well. “this is all rather shocking, after all, but promise this: once summer comes around, there will be a summer festival held inazuma as it does every year. can you promise me your attendance? the sight of the fireworks prepared by the naganohara family is certainly one to commend.”

“i promise.”

xiao then realizes that he had his eyes set on you this whole time—whether the past fifteen years are counted or not, that’s for him to keep.

#( writings )#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #alatus x reader #xiao #x reader #kinda messy if you ask me #the pacing and development are all over the place #im like. a good 30% proud of it while the other 70% is me thinking i could do better #(i really could)

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cr4yolaas · 2 days

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blue spring — until we're old and wrinkly

prev: remember to be patient! | masterlist | next: my blue spring

he picks her up from her place, something she isn't accustomed to just yet. the sunlight barely peeks out from behind his figure. it's a warm sight.

kageyama planned the entire day out — she caught a glimpse of it on his notes app, typed out neatly and with little details for him to remember — and she finds it foreign to have someone else handle everything for her. when they stand before the museum, she thanks him quietly by slipping her hand into his and pretends to not notice the perspiration on his palms or the flush of his cheeks. the cues of spring happen to be on full display today, given the vibrant blossoms and the light breeze in the air, despite it already being june.

june, she ponders. spring is no longer with her, gone with the wind. she reminisces over late march, in which she had taken it upon herself to tutor her calculus seatmate, despite the inconvenience it created for her routine. she recalls early may and all of its disruptions, from her stepfather to the exhibit that tore apart pieces of her well-being. her gaze falls to the much rougher hand encapsulating hers, and she hopes that june brings about something better.

they walk around each floor together, their fingers loosely intertwined and their footsteps following the same tempo. he finds himself excited to listen to her ramble about each work that interests her. while he doesn't quite understand her observations about color theorems and medium combinations, he does understand the ardor that drips from each whispered syllable. he understands the complexity of her love for the intricacies that she describes. he understands why he likes her so, so, so much.

"i requested to host an exhibit here before," she mutters while they pause to sit and rest. there's a small bench placed in the center of one of the exhibition rooms beneath a dim light. in truth, kageyama feels like it's just them in the room. "mainly because it was convenient, but also because i dreamed of it when i was a kid." he watches as she scans each work with childlike wonder. the thump, thump, thump of his heart only drums heavier against his chest with every passing second.

his thumb grazes over her skin absentmindedly, as if to soothe himself. "what happened after?" he whispers. he's scared that if he speaks too loud, the delicacy they've constructed around themselves will shatter.

she takes a breath before she responds, and he braces himself for whatever explanation she has. "they didn't accept my work because i was too young, by their standards. something about how they wanted seasoned talent." her thumb copies his, albeit with a little more force. "it was odd. it feels weird to be here now, seeing what they would've wanted up on their walls. but i don't really mind it now."

he can't take his eyes off of her. her words spill from her lips with ease and he soaks it all in, as if it's a healing prayer. the effect she has on him is devastating, he realizes, but he doesn't want it to wither away for a second.

they sit in silence for a while. a handful of old couples shuffle by, their hands interlinked, and he wonders if he'd find himself in that position with her. tourists filter in and out and speak in quiet dialects he can't comprehend, but he enjoys the noise. she does too. it's comfortable, despite how odd it feels on her skin, and she can't find herself fighting it anymore. when he asks if she's ready to leave, she questions the last time she was able to relax. she scavenges through her memories, searching relentlessly for a moment of rest that felt as easy as this, and she finds nothing. so, earnestly, she declines. she asks him to sit with her for a little bit longer. he doesn't complain.

he wants to ask if she'd be content with continuing their routine, where he comes over on thursdays and listens to her explain complicated topics until the sun sets behind the horizon. he wants to ask if he can keep buying her iced coffees with hints of cinnamon and lavender until she grows sick of them. he wants to ask if she's ever envisioned them together, old and wrinkly, walking hand in hand. instead, he asks her if she's truly, genuinely happy.

"of course i am. you're here, after all."

that's more than enough for him, he decides.

kageyama doesn’t want to drop her off yet, but with the moon hanging high in the sky and the building lights slowly diminishing, he knows he can’t ask her to stay with him any longer. so, with heavy footsteps and a heavy heart, he walks with her up the stairs and down the hall of her apartment building, and his chest aches more and more with every inch closer to the doorway.

his hand departs from hers, and he feels foolish for being so clingy. she swivels around to face him. his jacket rests on her figure, the result of his overwhelming concern from moments prior. it’s the same one he left at her house weeks and weeks ago. the memory is still fresh in his head.

“i had a lot of fun today,” she muses while fidgeting with the zipper. she doesn’t want to take it off yet, and she reasons with herself that it’s only because the breeze is heavy and the night is cold, but she knows there’s more to it than that. “thank you, tobio.”

at her call of his name, he finds himself hopeless. he can’t stop himself from pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, and he can’t stop the confession that he spills out shortly after.

“i think i’m in love with you,” he whispers against her skin. their noses are barely touching. there’s a minty essence to his breath, a glimmer in his eyes, and in his words, there’s a bountiful amount of raw, unfiltered emotion. she can tell it isn’t a new realization, given by the way he utters it so readily. “so much so that i’d let you tutor me until we’re old and wrinkly.”

“really?” she laughs, the sound light against his ears. “that’s a long, long time.”

“i don’t mind. as long as it’s with you.”

she doesn’t tell him that she shares the sentiment, but she isn’t sure if she really needs to tell him. the small smile she gives him and the soft peck she places on his cheek says everything he needs to know.

𝜗𝜚 next chapter is the last one !! thank u for reading blue spring :)

𝜗𝜚 i hope that this chapter really encapsulated the shift in yn's life from something much more solemn and bitter to something colorful and light since that's really where the title comes from

𝜗𝜚 blue spring was initially just a random title i came up with, but when i searched it up i found out that it means "youth" or a "fresh start." i felt that this fit super well with the general plot as not only did yn lose a lot of her youth to her workaholism, but she also got to experience a fresh start in her life by meeting kageyama

𝜗𝜚 this chapter is super duper cheesy but i feel like kags is a very cheesy guy anyways

𝜗𝜚 also does this count as them being official in ur guys' eyes ? i was very conflicted on whether or not this chapter would be the last one because i felt that i wasn't very sure on how to show the transition from "more than friends less than lovers" to being in a relationship where you can confess your love, so i was about to make this a "time-skip" sort of chapter where it's already out there that they're in love. in a sense this makes this chapter a filler ,, but it felt wrong to not talk about their date </3

𝜗𝜚 also the dog reaction pic is an inside joke that no one else will understand bc none of my irls follow this account (and i hope they never find it </3)

𝜗𝜚 also also i watched wifty while finishing this up bc i miss it sm :( zhangrai my otp

taglist: @mfcherry @eggyrocks @scxrcherr @yuminako @girlkissersco @diorzs @causenessus @kyo-kyo1 @k0z3me @shironagi @lovingvi @bunninio @hisfuture @lilchubbyyy @gsyche @ghostreader0307 @fiannee @minimarkive @aboutkiyoomi

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thisapplepielife · 2 days

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Written for @steddie-week.

Waiting on You

His hands are warm.

That's the first thought Eddie has as he starts to come around. He knows it's Steve, has heard him talking to the kids, to Wayne, off and on all morning. Eddie's been here, sort of, skirting the edges of consciousness for a while now. In and out, without being able to really push through to let them know he's still here.

That he's coming back, if they'll just give him a little more time. To not give up on him, not yet.

He realized quickly that they're all taking turns sitting next to his bed. Uncle Wayne, Steve, the kids.

And when they do, somebody usually has a hold of his hand, like it's a requirement for keeping Eddie tethered to the earth.

Maybe it is.

But he's learned the differences. They all touch him, hold his hand, squeeze him, differently. But this is Steve, Eddie's sure of it. It's not rough or callused or dry enough to be Wayne. It's not sweaty and desperate enough to be Dustin.

Dustin clings. Squeezes, as if that could wake Eddie up.

Gareth, too.

Both kids always feel like they're holding onto him for dear life. Eddie wants to tell them he's okay, or that he will be, but he hasn't been able to push through to the surface. Not yet.

Steve's different.

Steve's hand is just a warm, solid presence. Not really demanding anything of him, so Eddie supposes it's fitting that this is the hand grasping his when he finally wakes up. Eddie does things on his own terms, always has, and he figures waking up from a coma is no different.

Eddie gives Steve's hand a squeeze, Steve squeezes back, but keeps talking to Dustin. Maybe this is something Eddie's done before, like, involuntarily? Eddie doesn't remember. So he squeezes harder, and that's when the talking stutters and ceases.

"He just squeezed my hand," Steve says.

"He does that. You know he does," Dustin says, sounding distant and far away.

"Not like this," Steve says, then suddenly, even if Eddie can't see him, Eddie knows he's much closer, face right above his. Eddie can sense it.

"Eddie? You with us?" Steve asks.

Eddie can't seem to open his eyes yet, but he squeezes back again, long and deliberate this time, hoping that gets the message across.

It must.

"Call Wayne," Steve suddenly says, and then there's a hand on Eddie's forehead. The same kind of warm palm that's still gripping his hand.

It feels nice.

Eddie squeezes Steve's hand one more time for good measure, and Steve laughs, and says, oh so close to his face, "Hi. Welcome back. We've been waiting on you."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-week and follow along with the fun!

#steddieweek2024 #day two #hands #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steddieweek #thisapplepielife: steddieweek #thisapplepielife: short fic

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yusiyomogi · 23 hours

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i've been thinking about kabru and mithrun again and how they change each other in subtle ways. kabru is a people-pleaser: a large part of his personality is to adapt to another person, act in a way that make them more relaxed and friendly in his company, do what they want. but in reality he's a type of person who has his own pretty strong beliefs and larger-than-life ideas, and at the end of the day his charismatic act comes from his desire to have control.

it's not a coincidence that he isn't at all open about himself like he wants other people to open up to him. and so, he's more comfortable expressing his desires by slowly and carefully manipulating other people to do what he wants, instead of just, yknow, saying it out loud? it's essentially a survival tactic he adopted after utaya's tragedy, that was fitting for his personality (he loves people!) and convenient in elven society.

without doubts there's a constant conflict between these two sides of him, because he feels strongly about what he wants, yet he can't do anything about it because of his compulsive people-pleasing. he puts off and ignores his own desires, even though they often burn their way through him. this conflict makes him yell angrily in his mind and fantasize about violence in some pretty mild situations, as we can see happening all the time in the manga.

and this is where his dynamic with mithrun truly shines, i think. because not only kabru can relax and act more genuine, because mithrun doesn't have any strings to pull, he's forced to act on his own desires, because mithrun doesn't have them.

mithrun relies heavily on what other people want, but in comparison to kabru, he literally has no other choice. and in a way, mithrun shows his trust by choosing to follow certain people's desires, because he knows that many people would take advantage of his condition. "what do you want to do?" is a question of trust and respect from mithrun, but also something important and complicated for kabru, because he now has to express his own desires vocally, which means showing vulnerability. this is an uncomfortable situation for kabru, but the good thing is that mithrun wouldn't judge him.

and it's sorta like a weak muscle you need to train. kabru slowly realizes that he doesn't have to always act in a way other people wants him to act. after a short time they spend together he's already much better at it, being able to hohestly tell laios he wants to be his friend and stop mithrun from going after the demon (unfortunately, kinda betraying his trust in the process). and in the end when mithrun is catatonic, it's only when kabru says that he wants mithrun to live a happy life, mithrun starts recovering. in many ways they help each other by helping themselves: they both have to go through the process of recognizing their own humanity and it helps the other person too. "look what i learned today about being a human, isn't it cool?"

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #kabru #mithrun #sorry for my english #text post

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fishsinsareacknowledged · 2 days

Text

Idk König who has stoner eyes even though he doesn't smoke. Barely ever touches anything addictive due to his late father. Feeling that sinking feeling when he finds his eyes red, just like his father, whenever he looks in the mirrors.

König who used to get bullied because of his red eyes. Afraid to fight back because he would fit into the stereotypes. König who made his mask specifically to hide said eyes. Finding the coverage it gives relaxing to his sensitive eyes.

König who got fit and thick because people gossiped that he looked like a smoker due to how lean he was. König who almost always crosses the street whenever he sees someone smoking, an irrational fear of getting addicted from a whiff because that's what his adults told him.

König who almost beats the shit out of the recruit that spiked the drinks. Only calming himself down when he realizes how young the prankster was. König who regulates his alcohol almost religiously. Respecting bartenders and how their hands don't shake with a bottle of alcohol. König who makes sure to count his sugar intake daily as he gets older. Especially as he gets older.

König who has a dedicated schedule everyday, giving himself enough leeway between schedules to relax yet never abusing the time. Always keeping track of it and understanding that everything needs to keep going.

König who never let himself have any time for girlfriends till he was in his thirties. Far too late and far too early, the most he'll have is a prostitute and even that feels wrong to him. Sometimes only holding said escort until he feels well enough to fuck/leave them.

××××××××××××××××××××××x x××××××××××××××××××××××

Masterlist

#idk i felt like abusing konig #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #cod konig #konig #könig mw2 #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig #cod #call of duty #hcs

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sturniqlo · 21 hours

Text

Positive - C.S

summary: y/n and chris find out their expecting a baby

cw: bit angst, fluff, young parent pregnancy, panic attack, crying

an: she's a short one

masterlist

-----------------------------------------------

It's been about a week since Y/n started to feel sick. First, she woke up one day and had the urge to throw up so she ran to the bathroom and threw up everything she had the night prior. She thought nothing of it, maybe the food she had eaten sat the wrong way. Then, certain smells she used to once love made her gag, and yet again run to the bathroom.

Her favorite perfume Chris has gifted her for her twentieth birthday made her nauseous. She couldn't bare the smell on her, so she ran to the bathroom, threw up, took a shower and tossed her perfumed clothes in the washer. During this time, Chris was away in Boston visiting his parents and he had no idea any of this was happening until he facetimed her and saw her pale face.

"Hey ba- woah, you're pale. You feeling okay?" Chris said when he saw his girlfriend's pale face and under eye bags. She shook her head. "No, I've had this stomach bug for the past four days. I can't keep down anything I eat besides water and fruit." She pouts. "Was it what we had for dinner before I left?" He asks, shifting in his bed, worrying for his girlfriend's wellbeing. "I think so, it's messed me up pretty bad."

When Chris returned the following week, she was the same, only a bit better. She was able to keep down more foods like a ham and cheese sandwich, cereal, mac and cheese, and smoothies. The day after Chris had came back, he stayed at Y/n's place and made eggs in the morning. She woke to the smell and threw up in the bathroom. For the next hour, all windows were open to air out the smell. That's when Chris started to get suspicious.

Week three, it had been three weeks that Y/n has been with this mysterious sickness. Chris couldn't help but ask. "Are you sure you're okay? Do we have to go to the doctor?" He asked one day that week. "I'm okay, it's probably just my period, it should be coming any day now." She brought her knees up to her chest. Chris came close to her and wrapped his arms around her. She inhaled the scent of his cologne loving it, which is why she bought it for him on a random day. However, this time when she inhaled his scent, she became nauseous. Y/n pushed him off and ran to her bathroom.

"Hey, you're okay." Chris grabbed her hair and formed it into a makeshift ponytail with the hair tie he had on his wrist as she emptied everything she had in her into the toilet. "You want some water, baby?" He asked her as she flushed the toilet and sat against the shower door. "Please." She said, throwing her head back. Chris went to her kitchen, and opened the fridge grabbing his a cold water. As he closed the fridge, she caught eye of her calendar on the fridge door. blood bath begins :( is marked for the 13th of the month. He quickly pulled out his phone and checked the date.

It was the 22nd. He gasped. He quickly realized he was taking too long so he went back to Y/n. "Here you go." Chris opened the water for her and handed it to her. She had moved to the wall across the sink so he sat down on the floor next to her. "Babe, I don't want to scared you or anything but, are you sure you're not pregnant?" Y/n chokes on her water. "What? No, I'm about to get my period around the thirteenth." She looks at him. "Y/n, it's the twenty second." Her face falls. "No- no it's not." She pats on her pockets for her phone but she doesn't feel it. "Look at the date." Chris pulls his phone out from his pocket. Quickly, she grabs his phone and turns it on looking straight up at the date.

It's the twenty second. She has the same reaction as Chris and gasps. "Chris, how- how did I not notice. Oh my god." She puts her head in her hands. "Hey, hey, hey, it's going to be okay. I'll run to the store down the street and buy a couple of tests okay? Whatever the result is you have the final decision okay? And we'll get through it together." Chris brings her to his chest. "Okay." She manages to squeak out.

Chris run his hands through his hair as he power walks to the Walgreens that is luckily down the street from Y/n apartment complex. Back home, Y/n struggles to walk to the couch. Her mind runs through every possible situation that can happen. It can be positive and Chris can leave her and want nothing to do with her or the bab- No! She stopped herself from that thought. He said they'll get through this together. Her breathing get more uneven as she reaches the couch. She struggles to breathe as the tears stream down her face. She tries her hardest to take deep breaths, in 1,2,3, out 1,2,3. That doesn't help. She looks around her living room and tries to spot five things she can see and say out loud.

"Pic- picture of me and Chris on our one year anniversary. Chris' hoodie on the arm- arm rest. My green rug Chris bought me. Tulips I picked out last week." It starts working, her breathing is finally back to normal and she wipe her sweaty hands on her sweats. She takes a couple of minutes to herself before getting up to distract herself while Chris comes back.

What seemed like hours, only ten minutes had passed, Chris finally walked through the front door with a bag in his hand. "Did you get them?" Y/n run to him. "Yeah, I got multiple." She grabs the bag from him and goes into the bathroom. After peeing on all four sticks, she opens the bathroom door and is met with Chris standing right in front. "Now we wait." She lets him in. She automatically wraps her arms around his middle and her his wrap around her neck. Bending his head down to kiss the top of it. "Chris, promise you won't leave me if it's a positive." She lifts her head off of his chest.

"Baby, I promise with all my heart, I will never, okay? Like I said we're in this together." He reassured her. During the next five minutes, Chris tries to distract her, talking about random things. Telling her random facts about animals Matt had told him the other day. "I think it's time, Chris." They unwrap their arms from one another. "Okay." They both grab two and Chris counts down. "We flip them at one okay?" She nods "3, 2, 1." They flip them.

||, Pregnant, +

"Holy shit, I'm pregnant." Y/n places the sticks back down on the sink and begins to well up with tears. "Come here." Chris places the two he had down and opens his arms up for her. "Chris, what are we going to do. We only just- just turned twenty." She cried. "We'll figure it out, alright." He spoke into her hair. "Do you want to keep it?" He asks. "I- Yes, I want to." She looks up at him and slightly smiles and he smiles too. "We're having a baby." He says.

"We're having a baby." She confirms.

-----------------------------------------------

do we want a mini series on this??

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l4long-winded · 3 days

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So this is somewhat inspired by the other anon about Carmy with the girl he can’t believe chose him. Maybe on a bad day, he’s just asking her why she’s with him and hes listing his bad traits and after every one she’s saying“I love you” until he stops. My man needs love, I want him so bad 😭😭

it's a culmination of it all. the piling stress from work, from this incessant need to prove himself, grief he has yet to fully process, capricious thoughts vying for his attention, exasperated expressions continuously staring daggers his way as if he's not running around without a sense of what he's doing, despite his brain instructing him this is the right path, while his heart isn't in any of it. he's having trouble breathing, to which you're there because you're always there for him at times like this as he's grasping at his chest, protecting it, and shielding it in case his rapid heart pounds its way out of his ribcage.

when he turns his head and observes the concern in your face mixed with the calming energy he really doesn't fucking deserve, his world tilts. the onslaught of it all shifts into his doubts, his insecurities, pointed at him with veracity he believes is consuming him the longer he stares. overwhelmed with emotion and panic, his fears surrounding you bloom full on his skin, thickening petals and branches crushing into the crevices of the veins in his arms and neck.

you could do better. so, so much better. you're not supposed to be here with carmen. he's kept you to himself, a caged bird he can't bother to let go of when you'd sing with access to the sky and new horizons ahead.

"i'm-i'm a fuckin' mess," he blurts, "what are you doin' here? with me? out of everyone?"

it's hard to decipher how heavy his words are when he's panting and his voice is close to cracking. it's as if he wants the answers to his question, but he's far too afraid of confirming the vicious betrayal of his doubt. he's convinced he doesn't sound ridiculous.

"because i love you."

"i-i-i fuck things up. i'll fuck you up. m'gonna ruin you and and and y-you're gonna hate me one day, n'won't blame you for a second-" he sputters, his words mashing together, strings of linguistics that don't sound like proper english. his mouth keeps opening and closing to release these incoherent ramblings, his ears bubbling with alarm bells.

"carm, i love you."

"i'm not right. i'm not fuckin' crazy," he gasps, "but i'm no good f'you. for anyone. not for my family, or, or, or my friends, if i fuckin' even have any at this point." his throat is tightening up, eyes shutting, the memory of you planted firmly behind his straining eyelids. he can't breathe.

"bear, listen, i love you so much."

"fuck, fuck, fuck this, fuck me, fuck everything, fuck the fucking restaurant, fuck, fuck, f-fuuuck it all—"

carmen flinches feeling your warm hands steady themselves on his cheeks. his lips and eyelids part, meeting your gaze. you're standing there in front of him, the combination of concern and calm remaining, as well as an affinity he will never, ever be able to understand. something about it soothes him, his breathing still ragged, but he inhales and exhales steadily out of the habit of this. it's not the first time this has happened, where he's so out of his mind that only few can pull him out before he's drowning in it. he shifts his face towards your palm, opting to press his lips against it. he should focus on breathing, but this action grounds him, muffling his worries, smothering them with the scent of your body lotion and the soft texture of your skin.

"i love you, carmen," you whisper. he hears you this time. the roar of his head dwindles down, fading in favor of hearing those words come off your lips again. he suddenly realizes how long you've been saying it while he was busy berating himself aloud with the secrets he buries deep inside.

he thinks he's going to say more shit if he tries to respond. this kind of thing has always been hard for him. pressured into it at times by his family, their defensive nature yanking it out of him by cutting at him and having it bleed out instead of nurturing it until it slips and that's all he can think about like it does with you. it spills like an inkwell. dripping over his skin. more permanent than the tattoos he's accumulated.

he nods. it's a slow and gradual thing, but he's accepting it. he wants desperately to say it back, but his lips shake with the threat of spewing more of the poison rattling in his lungs. he just keeps nodding, eventually hiding his head into your neck, lulled by the repetition of those beautiful, pacifying words.

"i love you, it's okay, breathe for me, i love you."

you love him. he's a mess and you love him. he's convinced he's going to hurt you, but you love him.

his arms tighten around you. he's positive you're capable of being better off without him, but he's not letting you go. he loves you too much to do that. he'll tell you later when he can breathe and when you inevitably render his thoughts into mush, replacing them with devotion, reassurance, and structure. yeah. yeah, he can do that. even if it's painfully obvious to everyone and you already know.

#l4l.writes #l4l.blurb #l4l.carmy #i wanna hug him and love him and never let go #this is unedited #but i felt like it needed a little more than my usual ramblings #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto comfort #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #dialogue not my strong suit #we move regardless #i hope this sufficed anon #tw self hate

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carlos-in-glasses · 21 hours

Text

Snap @paperstorm - my snippet also has Carlos rushing off to pee! Needs must. Thank you also for the tag @honeybee-taskforce @whatsintheboxmh @heartstringsduet @lemonlyman-dotcom

@bonheur-cafe @orchidscript and @reyesstrand 🩷🧡💛

This is from my 1x05 coda:

He loves to see it again – TK’s swagger overcoming his lack of skill on the dancefloor. In other contexts, swagger in lieu of competency is annoying, but here and now it's genius, and it's inspiring. Carlos loves to dance in theory, but he usually needs a couple of drinks in him to really let loose. Tonight he’s sober, yet it's like he isn’t. He just feels phenomenal. Can’t explain it. Doesn’t want to. There he goes, shoving his hand into TK's and jumping up and down with him while Paul finds himself in the center of a group of beautiful women. Two of the women dance sexily, the other two are just goofing around like them. Carlos watches with an emotional smile as Paul gets drawn farther and farther away from him and TK.

"How about that?" Carlos shouts over the music.

"Right?" TK yells back with delight as he descends into some sort of disco finger move. "Look at him go!"

The DJ ends Rhythm of the Night with a scratchy spinback and the opening synths of Insomnia pour into the air. Everybody cheers. Carlos feels like he's not touching the floor anymore. He loses TK for a second – but it's TK who finds him, snaking his arms around his waist from behind and swaying him as if to a slow ballad. Carlos twists to face TK, puts his hands on his shoulders. There's something chaste and junior-prom about it. He wants to kiss TK but he feels strangely shy out of nowhere, as if he's never kissed him before, and he's not sure if he's reading TK's face right. They'd neglected to establish any rules of engagement around P.D.A. for this evening, as though nothing needed saying. There’s a part of Carlos that realizes it's not too late. He has an opportunity to simply ask TK right now, "Can I kiss you?" or even just lean in and see how TK responds. But he swallows the question like a large pill without water, chokes a little, feels overwhelmed. “Ah, I really have to pee,” he says instead. Sexy.

"Okay!" TK replies happily, bouncing away as the beat drops. Carlos smiles and nods to hide a shimmer of hurt he's sure would cross his face otherwise. TK could have been disappointed to lose his dance partner, or could have eagerly joined him in a stall, but it seems like he doesn't much care. TK is only here to throw himself around the dancefloor. It’s fine. It’s fair enough. This night is about Paul, anyway. And he actually does have to pee, so.

Open tag and tags below

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @strandnreyes @lightningboltreader

@goodways @rmd-writes @welcometololaland

@never-blooms @ladytessa74 @liminalmemories21

@alrightbuckaroo @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @sanjuwrites

@chicgeekgirl89 @freneticfloetry @theghostofashton

@sugdenlovesdingle @herefortarlos

@tellmegoodbye @carlos-tk @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad

@eclectic-sassycoweyes @actual-sleeping-beauty @kiwichaeng

@literateowl @safeaswrites @captain-gillian

@nancys-braids @fifthrideroftheapocalypse

@ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi

If you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

#Tarlos fic #Tarlos fanfic #wip wednesday #Cig's 1x05 coda #cig tagged

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magniloquent-raven · 3 days

Note

Billy and El's relationship headcanons?

Yessss!! Always more than happy to talk about these two

I love El just kind of deciding that her and Billy are friends now. Billy gets no say in the matter.

She spends a lot of her time after Starcourt hanging out in his hospital room. Like, sitting in the corner quietly reading or practising her penmanship, anything that'll keep her occupied while Billy lays there and pretends to watch whatever's on TV. They don't really talk much. So Billy kind of figures Max put her up to this, keeping an eye on him. Or she's doing it out of some kind of obligation because he sort of saved her life.

The reality of it is that she doesn't feel quite at home living with the Byers yet, so she's finding any excuse to be elsewhere. And it just so happens that she wants to keep Billy company. It's a win-win.

When Billy gets out he figures he won't see her anymore. She's got her nerds to hang out with, she doesn't need to waste any more time on him now that everyone's pretty sure he's not gonna die.

Except the day after he moves into the tiny little apartment that some government stooge picked out for him, El shows up at his door with a gift bag in hand (Joyce introduced her to the concept of a housewarming present, and she was very excited about trying it out). It's already weird enough being on his own, trying to figure out how to live in his own space while he's relearning how to use his own body. He's navigating a lot of uncertainty, and then this kid comes along and he doesn't understand this either. It's a lot. He's going through a lot.

So he's a little too blunt when the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

She doesn't seem to notice the tone. Doesn't care that he's being rude. She just holds up the bag and smiles. "Making your house warm." She explains in careful, clipped sentences, that Joyce told her it's a thing friends do. That's the only part he really hears. Friends.

When he stepped between her and the Mind Flayer he didn't expect to get a friend out of it. He didn't expect anything but the pain that followed. The blood. The plan was to be a temporary shield for someone who deserved to live more than he did. He did his job. Max has never thanked him for it, why should anyone else.

He's not sure why her declaration makes his eyes well up. He doesn't really want to think about it that hard, if he's perfectly honest. It's awkward enough trying to blink away tears while some kid he barely knows intently watches him pull wads of tissue paper off a lumpy pile of...blanket? There's a fuzzy green throw blanket at the bottom of the bag, and he's not sure if that's going to make him laugh or cry some more.

By the time Mrs. Byers shows up that evening, he's feeling a little less emotionally unstable. A little. She spent the day helping him shelve all the books he never bothered unpacking after Neil moved them to Indiana. Every so often she'd ask what one was about, and always with refreshingly unbiased curiosity, never why do you have that or I wouldn't have expected you read something like this.

He knows a little about where she's from, memories the Mind Flayer left behind, impressions and echoes. He knows enough to understand why she is the way she is.

It occurs to him after she leaves that she knows just as much, if not more about him. The realization gives him vertigo, the bottom of his stomach dropping away. But despite that, he wonders if it's a good thing. They don't have to explain themselves to each other, they can just. Be friends. Might be nice.

bonus tidbits:

Billy lets El have a beer one time and she deeply regrets asking for one, because it's gross. She has to use his mouthwash twice and she's still making disgusted faces about it like an hour later

El's canon habit of dressing like people she spends a lot of time with. She hangs out with Billy for like two months and ends up getting a Joan Jett rocker shag. She steals a jean jacket from Jonathan. She likes his earring but when he tells her how ear piercing works she gets really upset because needles scare her. So he buys her some clip-ons

Max hates how much time they spend together, at first. She's jealous that they're so close. Both of them are people she's really wanted to like her but initially rejected her, and now they're just automatically each other's BFFs? How is that fair? But it's hard to stay angry when Billy seems so much happier nowadays, and she knows El has trouble making friends

It takes Billy a long time to get comfortable around Joyce. When she comes by to pick El up she's always so friendly and. Mom-like. One time she gave him a little pat on the shoulder and said she hopes he's doing okay all alone up here, before she left with El, and he spent the next ten minutes sitting on the floor in tears

Personally, I've always HCd El as a lesbian, I just think it would take her SO much to actually figure it out, because her relationship with Mike is kind of the first thing she latched onto after leaving the lab, so it would be hard to come to terms with what that attachment really is. But I like toying with the idea of her being introduced to the idea of what queerness even is via Billy's memories. She's scared to bring it up for a long time, it was something she only saw because he had so many memories of being made to feel bad about it, she doesn't quite understand all the shame and the anger, but it makes the idea of being gay scary. After she looked into Billy's memories she started to notice the things people say in real life, the attitudes they have, now that she's got context for what that kind of stuff means. And she doesn't know who to talk to about it other than Billy. Which would not go well at first, because it's Billy. But after they talk it out he'd be soooo much more protective of her, like. Insisting on driving her any time she wants to go somewhere, glowering at literally everybody who looks at her funny. Kinda hovering around waiting for there to be someone to beat the shit out of for her.

El being made aware of queerness being a thing might make her more likely to notice Will's gay too tbh, and then she'd be super protective of him. El ends up at Billy's place super agitated one day and ends up telling Billy the things she heard people saying about Will, and Billy's like, oh, well. I may have to run some kids over, okay.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #el hopper #a raven's writing desk #ty lovely anon 💜

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yanderes-galore · 17 hours

Note

Romantic stolas headcanons?

Now that I've SEEN Apology Tour, I have IDEAS. Some of said ideas were discussed with @okchijt after we watched the episode together. Plus it was their idea to add the Octavia section :)

❗️Spoilers for Helluva Boss: Apology Tour❗️

Yandere! Stolas Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Angst, Paranoia, Mature themes (Multiple mentions of intimacy and intercourse), Rebounding, Fear of abandonment, Stalking, Clingy behavior, Drinking, Dark themes, Toxic relationships, Imprisonment, Manipulation, Jealousy, Possessive behavior, Violence, Consensual turned forced relationship.

I'd imagine any of this would occur after his breakup with Blitzø.

Stolas is a lonely prince, one who doesn't have many friends and only ever loved Blitz for most of his life.

So imagine if he met you at Verosika's party during Apology Tour?

For the sake of this concept, maybe you were also hurt by Blitzø at some point.

You pity the prince, watching as he drowns himself in alcohol.

Soon you manage to make your way to him... seeing him an absolute mess on the couch.

Stolas is nervous to talk at first due to how isolated he is.

However, as you sit next to him on the couch, you allow him a shoulder to cry on.

Stolas takes some comfort in speaking with you.

You've been hurt by Blitz in the past... but you seem over it.

Honestly, Stolas just wants someone to talk and vent to since he has no one else.

Stolas just expected you to leave after your chat.

Instead... you put your hand on his shoulder... even if you were shorter than him.

"Wanna dance? Might take your mind off it. It's probably the best for both of us."

Stolas feels his cheeks flush when you make the offer.

He's flattered... taking your hand and following you to the dance floor.

Stolas wasn't expecting it... but spending time with you really was helping.

Dancing with you is exciting... It really did help him forget Blitz for a bit.

Then you kiss him... and his mind goes blank.

Afterwards, Stolas gives in to your advances.

By the end of the night you two are in bed and Stolas barely remembers Blitz due to all the alcohol and pleasure.

Stolas was so used to Blitz being rough in bed.

Yet with you? He... He didn't feel that.

You were soft, caring, you let him guide you both.

The intimacy between you two felt... healing.

It was enough to soothe his conflicted heart, even if you two were drunk fools.

But by the end of it all... Stolas couldn't help but feel loved when he saw you curled up.

Yes... Yes, this was what he needed.

Stolas hates it when you two eventually part.

He knows afterwards he has to come home to a messy divorce... and he'll just be reminded of Blitz...

Yet, when he goes home, he's comforted by how he felt with you.

That night you cared for him... you showed him love...!

Now... he can't help but crave it.

He originally tries to ignore his urges.

It was just one night... there's no way you'd want to do it again...

Yet Stolas can't help but look for you...

Once he finds you, he can't help but ask you for another round of your soothing touch.

He doesn't expect you to say yes...

But you do! Leading to you and him having an arrangement.

Essentially, you become his coping mechanism.

Stolas is ironically similar to Blitzø as a yandere.

He hates being alone and would first see his obsession as something similar to a rebound.

Your "relationship" with one another is very similar to what he's used to.

Intimacy. He views intimacy with you as a way to soothe his heart.

He knows intimacy with you isn't the same as it is with Blitzø.

Stolas doesn't even force it, you willingly offer to soothe his heart.

Your bond and his obsession starts as a way to cope.

But over time... Stolas realizes he really does love you.

Your relationship would actually start mostly healthy.

At first it's just intimacy to help Stolas cope.

Although... either you or Stolas would bring up the idea of actually... dating.

Stolas craves romance, just like the romantic films he watches.

He's overjoyed when you admit you want to give things a try.

Stolas is a yandere that's subtle, you wouldn't notice his red flags until later.

Stolas, like Blitz, struggles with relationships.

He's seen them in romantic films, yet is nervous.

Stolas fears he's reading you wrong, not wanting to repeat any of the mistakes he did with Blitz.

He's picking up on the right signs... right?

You really do love him, don't you?

I imagine Stolas would be insecure, even if your actions do show genuine love.

Stolas would fantasize about your relationship being similar to the shows he watches

He asks you to take him on little dates, to take long walks with him, to cuddle him....

Stolas comes off as corny because of the stuff he watches.

Between you and him... it isn't just about the intercourse.

You two start with a genuine connection, even if Stolas is rebounding.

Things only sour due to his growing obsession

Stolas is addicted to you...

He can't get enough of your kisses, your touch, and your words.

He feels so submissive and loved with you...

He never wants to let that go.

Stolas is scared of being left alone and losing what he has with you.

Ironically, that paranoia is what makes you distance yourself.

Stolas gets uneasy at the thought of you being with someone else.

The prince doesn't ever want to leave you, even after nights together he curls around you tighter.

Seeing you leave pains him... even if he knows you'll be back.

Stolas is sometimes insistent he at least follows you to a group hang out.

You try to decline, feeling Stolas would draw in too much attention as a prince.

Yet he always gives you such pleading eyes.

You end up often allowing him to tag along, the prince looking ecstatic that you're letting him come along.

Even if you said no, he pretends to go along with it...

Only for him to follow you around from a distance.

Stolas is definitely clingy.

He drags you to watch shows with him, he follows wherever you go...

He's so worried for you.

Stolas gets jealous, but he isn't as bad as most.

He tries hard to hide it.

He's stoic, watching with a silent glare as you mingle with your friends.

Once you're alone though he's clingy, often nipping (pecking?) at your skin in an attempt to gain your attention.

His lack of boundaries is what makes you begin to reconsider your relationship.

You love him, you really do...

But he is so scared to leave your side.

His possessive behavior is no doubt due to this fear.

Yet at the same time he tries to correct himself, wanting you to not seem overwhelmed.

The prince can only take so much, however....

He knows you love him, yet he still feels selfish.

He wants you to be just with him.

He wants you to rely on him.

Seeing you with others or being independent makes him fear you won't need him.

Stolas is a protective and clingy boyfriend.

For the most part he's submissive with you.

Although, Stolas has moments where he's stern.

I'm talking about times where he's overprotective and jealous.

Stolas doesn't want you hurt, in fact he's strong enough to protect you if you just let him.

However, these protective instincts he has and his jealousy...?

It drives you away from him.

Once you notice what you've gotten yourself into, you try to ask for space.

Something Stolas dreads.

When you ask for space, he immediately panics.

Wait! He can be better!

Please don't leave him... he's addicted to you.

You aren't supposed to leave him...!

Imagine if Stolas was so scared of losing you that he ends up trapping you.

He calls you to his home for one last night of intimacy, just between you before you have a break...

Then he traps you as though you're some royal pet.

Stolas doesn't want to be hurt again.

You helped him move on from Blitz... you showed him romance...!

What about all of your dates? Your little hangouts? Your intimacy?

Does it mean nothing?

No... No, that's not true.

You do love him...!

He'll show you he loves you... that you love him...!

It will all be okay... even with you trapped in his home he can still be romantic with you...!

He'll protect you, he'll prepare little inside dates, you can stay in his room...

Everything will be perfect...!

You can clearly tell that you wanting to leave him breaks the prince.

He loves you too much to let you go....

You're meant to be perfect...!

You're meant to be romantic together...!

Nothing will ruin this little fairytale fantasy you both have together...

Not even you.

🦉-Bonus -> Darling, Stolas, and Octavia-🦉

In terms of how Octavia would act towards you dating her dad, at first she feels disdain.

She thinks you'll also leave and doesn't try to be attached.

However... you most likely don't force any interactions with her.

She's going through enough with the divorce between her dad and mom.

So you merely offer help when she needs it and give her space.

As your relationship progresses, Stolas may try to encourage Octavia and you to have a parental bond.

Octavia no doubt ignores the idea at first....

If she wants a bond with you, she'll make a bond with you.

Due to you being considerate of her wishes and not forcing yourself into her life, Octavia may actually warm up to you.

It starts small... you and Octavia doing small things together.

Things like shopping, small chat, cooking...

Or even something simple like sending memes to each other.

It's all small and allows you two to form a genuine bond.

She isn't even yandere, she probably doesn't even know her dad is.

In fact, speaking of Stolas, he loves you two getting along.

He really does want a normal family, so seeing you all get along makes him want to keep you by his side more.

Keeping you is no longer just about Stolas... it's also for Octavia.

Stolas loves how happy you make his daughter.

She's always so happy around you, often asking Stolas when she'll see you again.

She even spends more time with Stolas now... it makes him so happy.

You three are so happy as a family...

Surely you will tolerate his behavior for her, no?

He won't let you leave him... not if Octavia is this happy now...!

#yandere helluva boss #yandere helluva boss x reader #yandere stolas

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